


Dog-eared

by yfere



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb is Super Smart, F/M, jester's mom has got it going on, self indulgent nugget fic, some stealth marion/nadine if you watch for it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 14:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17920976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yfere/pseuds/yfere
Summary: While doing spell research in Nicodranas, Caleb discovers by accident that Jester's dog is...a little more unusual than he initially thought. Research--and shenanigans--ensue.





	Dog-eared

Caleb offered to look after Jester’s dog because he was planning on staying in anyway. It was a fairly simple thing to offer, especially with Marion Lavorre’s tense little smile at the idea of not having the dog taken off her hands for the day after all. What he didn’t expect was Jester to then offer to stay behind as well, to keep _him_ company. _If_ that was what she was offering. He shouldn’t assume. But he’d managed to discourage her all the same, which left him, his books, one irritated cat, and one very boisterous dog.

 _Watch the dog,_ he told Frumpkin, and because he was alone he said it out loud. It’s a bit rude to speak in languages other people don’t understand, gods knew  _that’s_ been drilled into him, so being alone meant the welcome chance to slip out of Common for a while, that useful, essential language that grated on him even now. Sylvan felt much better in his mouth. Smoother, somehow. And—yes. He still had the hang of the language just fine.

Just as Frumpkin poofed into Nugget’s space, however, the dog blinked and landed right on top of Caleb. Oh. That was…no. No, he was definitely not a dog person. What was he thinking? The smell alone…

 _Okay. You want to do some spell research, with me?_ he said. Nugget licked the side of his face, making his beard stick up in the wrong direction.

It was going to be a long day.

Caleb supposed, after a while, that it might have been better for Nugget to leave with Jester after all. He had obviously been cooped up for far too long in the Chateau—not unlike Jester herself must have been, but that was a thought for another time. Cooped up, though, which wasn’t suitable for as active and inquisitive a dog as this obviously was. He kept on sticking his head between Caleb’s arms and the desk where he worked, nosing at the pages of his books. He nearly knocked over Caleb’s bottle of precious ink three times before Caleb threw up his hands, sending a pleading look towards Frumpkin, at that moment perched on the windowsill so as to get some distance from the dog while fulfilling Caleb’s earlier request to watch.

 _I need to concentrate,_ he said. _Do you think you could entertain him—?_

He didn’t want to phrase it as a command, and Frumpkin picked up on that nuance immediately, fluffing up a little and settling himself more securely into the window ledge.

Miraculously, though—and maybe it was that Caleb was looking at Frumpkin instead of the books, but Nugget looked over as well, and seemed interested enough in the cat that he blinked over, trying to land on the window ledge as well. He was too large and slipped, but that was enough to startle Frumpkin into leaping off, which began a small chase around the room. Caleb winced in sympathy.

 _Please make sure neither of you leave the upper floor,_ Caleb said, turning back to the desk. He wasn’t too worried. With the alarm he’d strung up he’d know if either of them left, and between him and Frumpkin he was fairly confident he could wrangle Nugget back into his room, if need be.

But now, to this polymorph spell. The references he gathered on it from the Ball of Fun were fairly standard but complete, enough so he thought he could see a way, not just to learn, but to alter the spell. With a bit of creativity, he might be able to preserve the natural intelligence of the target, and if he could do that, then it would be a simple step to accommodate it to humanoid forms—

He finished the final note in his journal, and felt like he could sing. At that moment, Frumpkin and Nugget came careening back into his room. And because there was cause for celebration—

 _Stop. Come here, please,_ he said, waving his hands in excitement. Frumpkin obliged by leaping onto the desk to crawl to his customary place around Caleb’s neck for petting, but Nugget _also_ decided to blink up, straight into Caleb’s lap, unclipped nails digging uncomfortably into his trousers.

 _No, no, I wasn’t talking to you, my lap is not big enough to hold you,_ he huffed. And instantly Nugget blinked off of his lap and to the side of the chair, letting out a small whine as he pawed at the leg.

It was a little unexpected. And maybe it was because Caleb had spent the better part of the afternoon thinking about about animals, and intelligence, but—

Can he understand me? he asked Frumpkin, speaking mind to mind this time. Frumpkin dug his claws into his shirt in a way that told him he was far less interested in what Nugget could or could not understand than he was in getting a breather from the dog. _Can you understand what I am saying?_ he asked Nugget.

Nugget barked.

Oh this. This was interesting.

Caleb took a moment to sort through his memory—he recalled reading a mention of Blink dogs before. He knew they were at least somewhat fey in nature, but in all his research he’d done on the Fey, he’d never followed up on any research having to do with…dogs. This is what your lack of curiosity gets you—a gaping blind spot, he scolded himself. Didn’t he know better? Didn’t he know by now that all information was good information? Because while the fey connection might explain Nugget understanding some Sylvan, it did not explain just how _well_ he seemed to grasp it, if his behavior just now was anything to go by. Most dogs only understood simple commands...didn't they?

 _Would you walk in a circle around the room, please,_ he asked. Nugget did so, panting happily. Then, on a whim, _Will you do it counterclockwise?_ Nugget did that as well.

Curious. Caleb patted the dog on the head, despite himself. He needed to finish transcribing a few more spells before the others returned, but this was something that needed following up on. Perhaps if the group managed to satisfy their curiosity about the tower today, he could take some time before departure to return to the bookstore Jester showed him—or he might find out something even earlier. After all, hadn’t someone been looking after Nugget for months while they were all at sea?

_Frumpkin, I’d like you to go outside of Marion Lavorre’s rooms, and listen in. Let me know when she’s no longer occupied and has a moment. Nugget, you stay with me._

Nugget was a bit better behaved this time. Also evidently tired from running around, he took a nap for a while, and then, upon Caleb’s request, ceased nosing at Caleb’s papers in favor of licking his hair into disarray. It was roughly 7:00, and, having finished copying spells, Caleb was elbow deep into research on the plane-shifting aspects of banishment when the door to his room creaked open a little wider.

 _Is she free?_ he asked, expecting to find Frumpkin. But shadowed in the doorway was Marion Lavorre herself, holding his purring cat in her arms.

“Hello. My daughter told me a little about this creature—Frumpkin?” Marion said.

“Uh. _Ja._ ” Oh, there was the Zemnian again. He was always slipping.

“She told me a bit about what you do with him, as well. I have to ask, is there a particular reason you’ve been listening in on me, or—?”

Caleb’s face grew hot. It’s not like he had—but then again, it’s not like he _wouldn’t_. “I only wanted to know when you had a moment free,” he said, stiffly. “I didn’t want to intrude.”

Marion seemed to relax a fraction. “I have thirty minutes or so before my next performance,” she said. “What do you need, dear?”

“It’s—ah. It’s about this one,” he said, gesturing towards his bed, which Nugget was, for the moment, napping on.

Marion’s eyebrow twitched. “Not having too much trouble with him, I hope? He’s such an _adorable_ little puppy.”

“No trouble at all—well that isn’t quite true, but. I mean to ask, you looked after him for quite some time? Have you noticed anything unusual about him, up to now?”

“You mean, besides the—blinking? That is the word?”

“That is the word,” Caleb confirmed. “You haven’t noticed anything else strange in his behavior?”

“Well, no.” Marion frowned. “I’ll admit I don’t know the most about dogs, but nothing stood out as strange to me. He’s very—energetic. I don’t suppose that’s what you mean?”

Caleb deflated a little. “No. I had hoped—well, you see this one is a very special creature, a kind of fey. You haven’t—happened to pick up any books on this sort of thing?”

Marion smiled, and past the poise Caleb thought he could see for a moment a hint of Jester’s mischievousness, buried within it. “That’s not my usual kind of reading material, I'm afraid. But maybe I can do something for you. _Nadine!_ ” she called out.

Her projection was only slight, but even that small change in volume seemed enough to wake Nugget from his slumber. He perked up immediately, eyes landing on Marion, scrabbling off the bed to make a leap and he was _definitely going to tear her dress—_

 _Stop!_ Caleb said. _Come back to me for a moment._

Nugget swiveled around to look at Caleb and whined, though he did come over. Caleb patted him awkwardly. _You can still say hello, if you’re a little more polite about it,_ he murmured. _Try again._ And he hadn’t expected that instruction to work, not really, but Nugget did, padding over slowly and butting his head against Marion’s thigh. Caleb looked up at her and found her eyes were a little round, though she recovered so quickly he was half-sure he imagined it. “You’re very good with him,” she said.

“It’s a bit of an accident. I happened to find out he responds to Sylvan—I think because of what he is. I’d like to find out more, if I can.”

She nodded. Nadine was at her side now, staring with open curiosity at the dog and at Caleb. “Nadine, would you be so kind as to stop by a bookstore to see if you can’t find anything for this young man on—blink dogs?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to—I can look for, at least let me pay—”

“Nonsense,” Marion said. “It’s no trouble. Nadine is an expert on all of the bookstores in Nicodranas. She will be able to find what you need more quickly and easily than anyone. And if it’s just one book, it’s a small thing for me to get it.”

“Being an expert on bookstores, I have to tell you, they’re closing down at this hour,” Nadine said, with a fond grin.

“First thing in the morning then. Please.” Nadine nodded, smiling, and Marion turned to Caleb with a grateful look. “Really, I’m glad to know there is someone who will look after Jester’s pet so well. Are you so good with all animals?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m good with any of them,” Caleb said. “Just, um. Cats, maybe.” Speaking of which—Marion was still holding Frumpkin. He held out his arms for the cat, and Marion tightened her arms around him, just slightly. It startled a smile out of him. “Oh. You are a cat person, as well?”

“Perhaps.”

He was still trying to sort out whether she’d _really_ made the joke he thought she had when she surrendered Frumpkin to him and spun away, to make her final preparations for her evening performance.

 

 

When the group returned, Fjord was holding a gnawed-on fish, and they were all speaking at once of the tower, the tower, the goblin accountant and the mage who lived there. Try as he might Caleb couldn’t quite convince them it was foolish to pursue the idea further, and part of him regretted thinking he’d be able to indulge them safely in this at all. In the hubbub, though, he forgot to bring up what he had been learning of Nugget.

 

 

He only really remembered later, on the morning of their departure. Exhausted beyond reason after the latest bout of nightmares—which he would feel more self-conscious about if Fjord and Nott did not seem as prone to them as he—Caleb nearly missed the glossy book, neatly tied with a ribbon and placed on his nightstand. It took Nott pointing it out— _Is that like one of those hotel religious book things?_ —for him to notice it, and the little envelope addressed to him tucked into the back.

_Mr. Caleb Widogast,_

_From one cat lover to another—a book about dogs. Take care of Jester’s Nugget for me._

_Wishing you well,_

_Marion Lavorre_

Caleb smiled and turned the book over to the cover. A book about Fey rather than about dogs, but the section on Blink dogs was helpfully bookmarked and highlighted for him. He’d read the whole thing on the road, he decided.

As for telling Jester—he’d waited this long. Why not keep this as a surprise?

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to mess with times a bit, having the M9 arrive earlier in Nicodranas and complete their initial bout of shopping and drop Caleb off in the Chateau by midmorning. So while canon only has him with Nugget for two hours or so, he spent between 7 to 9 hours with him here. I also sort of guessed at what two-room roomie arrangement would be.
> 
> Also....geeeeez is writing Marion something. She's so.......


End file.
